Chapters (25)
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Epilogue
- About the Author
“But I do,” he gently overrode. “It has been coming on for some time, but in that moment, I knew.” He shook his head, rubbing her hand, which seemed a touch colder now. “Before we left Trevadden, we had settled into a routine of our lives, and it was comfortable. You’d stopped resenting me, and I’d found all the faults I could in you, and we were on the brink of something more… something rather precious. And then, in your hour of greatest need, you called out for me.”
He broke off, shaking his head and fighting a lump in his throat. “Against your own will, perhaps, and against your inclination, and probably against any reason. My name. Not your mother, not your cousin, not your blessed Phillip, not even Emblyn. Me. And from that moment on, my heart needed nothing else.”
Adelaide’s eyes were wide now, her lips parted as she wordlessly took in what he was saying.
“Every moment of that time I recall with perfect clarity, down to the heartbeat. Your arms clinging to mine, the desperation of your touch, and the need of your soul…” He shook his head, smiling at her with all the adoration he now felt. “I have never been needed like that in my life, and I knew I loved you then. Not because you bore my child, but because you are the single most astonishing woman I have ever known. You have my heart, Addie. And until the end of my days, you always will. Whether you want it or not.”
She did not say a word as he finished, her hand doing nothing to grip his. Her bright eyes were almost childlike, something vulnerable and afraid lurking there.
His heart sank. Not only was she not going to return his sentiments, she was going to back away from them. He could see the retreat in every feature and knew she would have flown from the room had she been able to rise from her bed.
He couldn’t say anything, had no words. No feelings. No thought.
Why wouldn’t she say something?
Finally, she exhaled almost imperceptibly. “I was going to suggest a separation would be prudent,” she told him in a very soft voice, “while we’re here in London, especially.”
Harrison fought a disappointed sigh. “I am not going to stay in London and not be with my wife. I am not going to watch you be some Society pet for everyone to see, knowing now what sweetness lies beneath the surface.”